


Manhattan In The Distance

by betweentheheavesofstorm



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Bed motifs, Canon Era, Character Death, Hate Sex, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Morning After, One Shot, Pining, Regret, Short One Shot, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 21:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8300836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betweentheheavesofstorm/pseuds/betweentheheavesofstorm
Summary: Burr's bed has always been too small. Especially when Hamilton's in it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I found myself going through the HamBurr tag on Tumblr last night and having way too many feelings about them. So here is the product of my 2am brain.

Sometime after his graduation from Princeton, Aaron Burr wakes up in a bed that has always been too small and finds himself unable to move. This, he discovers some moments after waking, is because there is someone else in the bed. Someone who has taken all of the blankets and spread themselves obnoxiously over the tiny mattress.

After a moment’s exasperation (and futile attempts to tug the blankets back) Burr can’t stay annoyed. Hamilton looks good asleep – it’s probably the only time he ever slows down. His hair is fanned out over the pillow and the muscles of his face are relaxed, smoothing the countenance that’s usually bouncing between extremes.

It’s not a bad thing to wake up to.

 ______________

 

Burr’s bed isn’t any bigger the next time it happens, a year or so later. They’d laughed the last occasion off as a temporary insanity – youth being too exuberant – and attempted to reconcile themselves with that version of events. And yet here they are again, a little older, more immersed in the world that had impressed them so much before. A world that’s crumbling just as they’re becoming a part of it.

Hamilton thinks the war is a good thing. But then, Burr muses, as he lies awake that morning tracing the bite marks on his own neck and collarbone, Hamilton likes all kind of conflict.

He’s starting to suspect age won’t change that.

 

____________

 

And the war doesn’t break them. He thought that it would, for a while. Fighting is difficult and winning is harder. But when they find themselves in Burr’s bed again (it’s always his, why is it always his) they know where they stand. This isn’t a time where they have to understand or explain anything because they know how this works.

Burr lies in a strip of early-morning sunlight and thinks about waking up first. Hamilton’s body is curled round his and one of his hands rests on Burr’s hip. It’s incredible how delicate he really is and how easily he can make one forget it.

 

____________

 

Nobody told them that peace was this difficult. They can’t pretend in between kisses that they’re not slipping, that whatever understanding (or lack of it) that used to work has ceased to. A desperation has crept in, a roughness that leaves them grabbing at each other because however close they can get is not close enough.

At night it seems impossible that they could ever fix what’s started to crack and in the morning it seems impossible that they’re cracking in the first place. Hamilton is still pretty in the morning; it’s the only time of day that that word applies. He’s a fiery sunset and a soft sunrise and it’s only starting to occur to Burr that he might not get to see both again.

 

______________

 

Burr barely lets him in the next time. He’s so angry that when he looks at Hamilton red is all he sees. He’d slam the door in his face if he wasn’t already dragging inside and pinning him against a wall. They only just make it to the bed that day. Burr wants Hamilton, and wants him to leave and stop talking and back down. The other things he will never do, so Burr will have to settle for the first one.

The morning is a confusing time. Hamilton still makes his blood boil. Burr can't forget everything the two of them have said and done, the rifts that aren't ever going to be closed. Yet if they're still here and it still works, maybe there's hope. Not much. Not a lot. But it's possible that they don't have to lose this. 

 

_____________

 

The bed is empty when he wakes up. There is no warm body to steal the blankets and no hair all over the pillow. Burr lies on his back with his eyes closed. Maybe it’s not empty until he looks. Hamilton could just be changing things. It would be like him, after all.

Yet Burr can still feel the pistol in his hand, even when it’s curled into a fist. He can’t blame Hamilton for not being present. Even he can admit that’s unfair.

There’s too much space on the narrow mattress.

 


End file.
